


The Karen Chronicles

by MelodyJMars



Category: Original Work
Genre: Funny, Karen - Freeform, Karen memes, Karen's kickasserole, Melody J Mars, PTA memes, PTA moms anime, Satire, The Karen Chronicles, pta moms - Freeform, thedisneysoldier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25266460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodyJMars/pseuds/MelodyJMars
Summary: Have you ever watched a sports anime, or really any anime with a competition base, and thought, "Man I wish there was a version of this with PTA moms"? You're in luck because the Karen Chronicles is here! Join Karen White on her quest to beat her PTA rival, Helen Sharp, and become the best chef in the PTA! Will she succeed through the power of friendship and hard work or will Karen discover her self-worth was within herself all along?Rated T for the occasional use of swear words. Full of wacky characters and endless shenanigans, laugh at the absurdity of suburbia in this multipart satire. Did this all stem from that Karen's Kickasserole meme? Yes, yes it was!





	1. Chapter 1: Green Bean Casseroles of Envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the annual Back to School Potluck for the PTA in Normalton, USA! Karen White is armed and dangerous with a great green bean casserole recipe and dish with her name on it. It says "Karen's Kickasserole", how neat is that?  
> But what happens when she discovers her lifelong rival, Helen is one step ahead?

**_ The Karen Chronicles Chapter One: Green Bean Casseroles with Envy _ **

Karen White was filled with determination as she exited her crimson 2014 Honda Odyssey Minivan. She opened the flap over the tiny mirror on the car's built-in sunshade. Her lipstick perfectly matched her burgundy blouse and the rest of her makeup was picture perfect. She was relieved it hadn't run due to the August heat. She fixed a stray strand of blonde hair. Sometimes it didn't want to part so far to the side. It was cut a good ways above her shoulders with pieces softly curled in different directions. Not out of control but a tad spunky, just to show she hadn't given up on her appearance. Her chocolate-colored eyes stared intently into the mirror, doing a final quality check on her drawn-on eyebrows. Not a day went by where she didn't regret plucking them so much in college. Now they were thin shadows of what they once were, making the eyebrow pencil one of the most essential items in the world.

She got out of the car. Her leopard print pumps made a loud scrape with the concrete as she walked around to the passenger side door to retrieve her secret weapon. It was a white porcelain casserole pan with a blue border on the top as well as on the handles of the lid. In the middle was beautiful blue calligraphy which read, "Karen's Kickasserole". She lifted the new lucky pan carefully and closed the door with her elbow. Today was the annual PTA Back to School Potluck and Karen slaved away making the perfect green bean casserole. It would be the show-stopping side dish, not that they gave out a medal for that. She didn’t need a physical trophy to claim victory. The real prize was beating Helen.

Hastily prepared signs directed the attendees to take a side door adjacent to the band room and then go through the last door on the left to get into the gym. The floors were being waxed last minute by the front entrance. Karen was a little annoyed since she parked so close to the front of the school but the prospect of defeating Helen filled her with so much joy no inconvenience could get her down. The Normalton High School gym was cheerfully decorated with multicolored streamers, balloons, paper plates, cups, napkins, and even plastic silverware. The colors clashed a bit but it was the PTA’s way of trying to represent all of Normalton’s public schools. The room was strewn about with large colorful welcome banners for each school. The Normalton High banner was the same as last year's. It hung between the two double doors that lead into the school cafeteria. In a speech box were the words “Welcome Back Platypups”, they were being spoken by a waving Petey Platypus, smiling as best a mascot platypus could. The sight of the banner made Karen grin, her daughter worked so hard on it, and to see her work return (and in top condition) made her proud. White fold-out tables formed a makeshift buffet where a good third of the Normalton PTA had already arrived and placed their potluck goodies. Karen placed her “kickasserole” amongst the myriad of casserole type dishes. ‘I can’t wait to see the look on Helen’s face when I absolutely destroy her’, Karen thought. She smirked as evilly as a five-foot-two, forty-eight-year-old white woman could. Then a voice tore her from her thoughts.

“Karen”.

A shiver went up her spine. It was like Betelgeuse; only instead of her name being spoken the mere thought of it could summon this devil woman! ‘I should have known’, Karen thought. She’d known this witch since the second grade and not a day in their lives has gone by where they haven’t been at odds. Today was going to be different, Karen was in control this time and she was going to win! She turned around and faced her opponent with endless determination.

“Helen”.

“You seem rather chipper today” the ice queen observed.

Helen was holding her own casserole pan. It was solid red, like the blood of her enemies. Her black square-framed glasses were the only thing protecting Karen from being turned to stone by her ever-skeptical green eyes. Her nose had a point to it, it wasn't so prominent as to merit plastic surgery but noticeable enough to make her look like a witch. Something about the curve of her nude-colored lips made her look like she was always thinking. Her hair was a deep brown, perfectly straightened and parted down the middle with perfect symmetry, like always. She wore a blue-green blazer over a grey shirt, grey pencil skirt, and grey heels; the uniform of a Harvard Business School graduate. Helen always wore the same two accessories, a simple yet elegant diamond necklace, and a solid gold Rolex watch.

She set down her own dish beside Karen’s before locking her judgmental gaze upon her rival. “You know what they say about false confidence, Karen. Enjoy it while it lasts”.

Karen cracked her knuckles, “Helen, you frigid bitch I am WINNING this potluck!”

Helen adjusted her glasses with her middle finger and the gym’s lights made a flare effect over them, covering her eyes like a fog. It made her look soulless.

“Karen, I anticipated your childish competitive nature. I have known since April 17th, the day the 'Karen's Kickasserole' dish went in stock. From your Instagram stories, I know your twelve favorite stores. Cross-referencing sales records from the past five years, I anticipated when these stores would have sales, including the Michael's Craft Store you acquired your hmph special casserole pan!”

Karen gasped louder than an actress in a soap opera. Unlike the actress, however, this was genuine shock.

“That's not all, Karen. Since you failed to update your Facebook privacy settings, it was all too easy for me to find out your grandmother refuses to share her secret green bean casserole recipe. You had no choice but to seek out other options. From examining your Pinterest account, I discovered you pinned multiple green bean casserole recipes on your "dishes to dish out" board. You see Karen, I have anticipated your every move. I have spent months crafting the perfect recipe for green bean casserole. It's finally ready. I have won Karen.”

Karen gritted her teeth, she was furious. She had milliseconds to formulate a retort. Then she thought of her Granny and her cooking.

"You know what Helen," she said, "it doesn't matter how good your green bean casserole is, everyone here knows you make brownies from Betty Crocker mix instead of making them from scratch! You will never be the best chef in the PTA! Cooking takes heart and passion! My Granny may withhold her recipes as long as she lives but I know the secret ingredient is LOVE and that's something you and your three ex-husbands will never understand!”

There was no sign of emotion in the ice queen’s soulless emerald colored eyes. Her eyebrow had the faintest twitch and her voice was low when she said, “Karen, you certainly know a lot about love for someone on the precipice of divorce.”

Her mouth was ajar yet again, only the softest whimper came out. Helen smirked, knowing she was victorious. She left in silence to mingle with the other PTA moms and the handful of dads in attendance. Karen wanted to go home and cry.

Then Kelly Summers-Rosas, the sandy blonde bubbly PTA president ran over to her like an excited puppy and waiving like an idiot. She practically crashed into her with a hug! “Karen, you made it” she cheered. “Which one’s yours?”

“The blue one, it’s green bean casserole.”

“I love green bean casserole and it's not even Thanksgiving what a treat!

“Thank you, Kelly”. Karen’s voice barely masked her inner turmoil.

“If I'd known you were going to make green bean casserole I would have made pumpkin pie to match! But I made a mango pie since mangos are Enrique's favorite fruit”. She leaned close to Karen’s ear and whispered “it’s got a coconut crust”. She mercifully pulled back before squealing excitedly.

“I can't wait to eat it” Karen grinned, her mind repeating the phrase ‘fake it ‘till you make it’.

Thankfully, the conversation was kept short. Kelly noticed another PTA mom enter the gym. It was Monique Jones carrying a glass serving dish with her iconic baked macaroni and cheese. It was so good it put diets on hold. It was a dish of legend and Helen and Karen long since made a silent agreement that Monique’s mac and cheese was in its own category and did not count in their greater competition. Karen smiled and waved before turning away.

On her way to a quiet place to check her phone, she spotted Kelly's husband, Enrique Rosas. He was quite possibly the most beautiful man on Earth. He had the chiseled features of a statue, well-groomed stubble, gorgeous tanned skin, deep brown eyes you could get lost in, and a set of short yet voluminous brown hair on his head. The Brazilian Adonis was a massage therapist who taught salsa classes at the community center on Sunday nights. He was wearing a solid blue polo shirt with the sleeves rolled up and one of the few examples in the world of men’s shorts that were neither too baggy nor inappropriately tight. He was talking to a small group of dads while bouncing his one-year-old son, Esteban.

Hearing Helen's loud dramatic laugh from across the room tore Karen's focus back to reality. Helen was going to beat her at her own game. She felt like she could cry. Why did Helen always have to win? It didn’t matter how much she felt like she was finally going to win out in the moment, Helen would end up on top. Karen thought she won when she married first and then saw Helen get divorced three times but in the end, Helen was rich, successful, and independent while Karen was deeply unhappy with Chad. She pulled out her phone, took a picture of the banner, and sent it to her daughter.

Mary-Alice replied almost instantly, ‘long live Petey!’ with a couple of heart emojis. Karen immediately felt better, even in text form Mary-Alice was a ray of sunshine. She texted back ‘Does my #1 artist want pizza for dinner?’ The question was met with a ‘YES!’ All capital letters too, it made Karen feel more confident in her parenting. Oh, she almost forgot. She quickly texted ‘ask Colton if he wants stuffed crust’. Her son loved stuffed crust pizza, much to Karen’s dismay. She thought there was such thing as too much cheese but she’d order it for him anyway.

Then Shannon Wolff, Karen’s best friend in the entire world walked into the gym. She dyed her jet black pixie cut hair to hide the greying. Her bright blue eyes hadn’t lost an ounce of youth. She was in a navy blue blouse, a knee-length brown skirt, and a cute pair of navy sandals. She also carried one of her infamous giant purses, this one was leopard print. Trailing behind her curvy form was her timid husband, Thomas. He was tall and thin like a twig; his brown hair was short, tidy, and a tad uninspired. He had kind brown eyes, a large nose, and cartoonishly large round glasses. He carried a cake stand over to the long buffet table. When he took the lid off everyone’s mouths watered at the sight of a decadent chocolate cake.

Soon everyone came up and got their plates, nostalgic 80s hits playing from a nearby Bluetooth speaker. Karen was the last to her table, joining Shannon plus the other members of their friend group, Cheryl, Susan, and Pam. Shannon quickly moved her bag out of Karen’s chair as she approached. She took a paper towel out of the giant purse, set it on the ground, and put her purse on top of it.

“You know those can hang off the sides of chairs right?”

“And put a crease in the straps? This is a Valentino bag, Karen!”

“Good point. It’s pretty.”

“Thank you, so what did you bring?”

“Green bean casserole”

“You're kidding; did you know Helen did too?”

“She knew I would make it, that freak genius! She made a better one so she'd beat me!”

“I told Ashlee people who go to Harvard are psychopaths but she INSISTS on going to law school there! INSISTS!”

Cheryl Culpepper, a southern mixed-race woman with curly brown hair and honey-colored eyes joined the conversation. “You told her it wasn't going to be like Legally Blonde, right?”

“Of course, I did!”

“I’m sure if she gets a good scholarship from another school she’ll change her mind” Karen assured.

“I hope that happens. I can’t imagine her going over there!”

Susan Wackerman, a therapist with an auburn ponytail and blueish green eyes was the default mom friend of the group. She intervened, “Have you asked Ashlee why she likes Harvard? It’s a good school you may be overlooking some things.”

“Harvard is Helen’s alma mater! Something has to be wrong with the place.”

“Try and keep an open mind, Shan.”

Cheryl suddenly made a gagging sound and took a quick swig of water. She quickly regained her composure before asking “who made this crime against cornbread?”

“Janet Deeter” Shannon answered.

“Can’t she stick to those weird super organic vegan casseroles instead of ruining good food? This is wrong on so many levels!”

Pam Howard, the ditz of the group whose shoulder-length red hair was more unnatural than a two-headed fish piped in. "Which level, the Black level, or the Georgia level?"

"Yes," Cheryl said, taking another soul-cleansing drink of water.

Pam took a bite of Janet Deeter’s cursed cornbread; she made a weird face but ate it anyway. Her ocean colored eyes were filled with betrayal. “This tastes nothing like Cracker Barrel!” She slammed her tiny fist on the table and made everyone burst out laughing.

Then Karen glanced down at her plate. A dinner roll separated her and Helen’s green bean casseroles. She was filled with resolve. At the very least she didn’t have the worst dish at the potluck. Karen took a bite of her own casserole first, it was delicious. It wasn’t as good as Granny’s but it was still a dish worthy of success. Then without hesitation, she took a bite of Helen's casserole. She was taken aback. Her mind swirled with confusion. No, no it cannot be. She took another bite of each one.

“Karen, are you okay?” Susan asked.

“They taste the same!”

“You’re kidding” Shannon gasped before taking multiple bites of each casserole on own her plate.

“How did this happen? I don’t understand! Cheryl, you’re a food critic do these taste the same?”

Cheryl’s fork reached over to Karen’s plate and scraped off a small amount of each.

“They taste the same!” Shannon gasped. “How on Earth-”

Pam announced, "The crunchy onions on top of Karen's are uh…crunchier so hers is better”.

“I never thought I would say this” Susan said, “but I agree with Pam”.

“Okay”, Cheryl began. A hush fell over the table. “There aren’t that many ingredients in the first place and not much variety in preparation techniques. Helen’s crunchy onions aren’t soggy but Karen’s have more of a crunch. Other than that they’re basically identical”.

“So that’s it, she wins by crunchy onions?” Shannon asked.

“That can’t be it” Karen gasped, “I worked so much harder than her! I put my heart and soul into it and they taste the same! Winning by crunchy onions isn’t much of a victory at all”.

“Karen I know you worked hard but Cheryl’s right, there’s just not a lot of variety in green bean casserole," Susan said.

“If you ever tried Granny’s you’d know that wasn’t true! I’m not being over nostalgic either, she has the best recipe and she won’t fork it over!”

“Why won’t she give you the recipe?”

"Because then it wouldn't be a 'top-secret recipe' anymore." Karen put her head in her hands.

“Can’t argue with that” Pam said, her mouth of macaroni and cheese.

Susan opened her mouth to say something but a light tap on the microphone across the room silenced her. Everyone looked over at the platform, the music cut off right before the chorus of “Don’t Stop Believing” could start.

“Heeeellllooooo everybody!” Kelly announced with glee.

“Hi, Honey” Enrique shouted above the soft applause.

“Hi Enrique” her voice went up an octave, “hi Esteban!”

“Gaaah," said baby Esteban, pointing to the makeshift stage.

The audience went, “aww” in unison before Kelly continued speaking.

“It’s almost back to school time, Normalton! So our first order of business is the classroom wish list!” She clicked a button for the PowerPoint to go to the next slide but it didn’t move.

She clicked it again. Three different dads and one mom stood up to come help but before any of them got over to the computer the PowerPoint finally moved on to the Classroom Wish List slides. The first slides were for the elementary schools. Normalton’s 12 elementary and 4 middle schools shared the strange motif of being named after important figures in American history who were never president. It all started with Alexander Hamilton Elementary School; the name was picked because some of Normalton’s founders were Hamilton’s descendants. Their colors were red, white, and blue and their mascot was the Patriots long before a certain NFL team picked it out. The 2 high schools seemed to have either gotten tired of naming convention or simply ran out of ideas because they were Normalton High School and Normalton West High School. The requested supplies for the schools were largely the same, extra pencils, notebooks, art supplies, snacks, cleaning products, and such. A handful had donation requests for special projects. For example, both Emily Dickinson and Frank Sinatra Middle School had requested donations so they could buy new desks. The snobs at Normalton West wanted donations so they could give the entire student body MacBook computers. It made Karen roll her eyes.

"And that takes us to Normalton High," Kelly said, changing the slide. "Normalton High has requested the standard items with an emphasis on extra art supplies. The drama department is asking for donations as well. As always if you ever need to get rid of any instruments, the band will be happy to take them. Please consider donating to our schools’ other projects if you can and I also want everyone to sign off on at least one donation item before we leave, some of these are super cheap. I already got a bunch of stuff at Target. I’m going to pass around sign-up sheets and donation buckets. I’m also passing around cards so that you can vote for your favorite dishes at today’s potluck. There isn’t a prize this is just for fun; maybe next year we can have prizes. I’ll announce the top 3 in each category soon”.

Karen’s head popped up like a meerkat that suddenly spotted a hawk in the sky. Victory, true victory over Helen was possible. Her friends would vote for her, she was sure of it. Her casserole was better, granted it was by a margin she didn’t make from scratch but it had to count. Pride was the reward. She locked eyes with Helen across the room and they stared at each other in hatred, their eyes narrowing until they were interrupted by sign-up sheets being passed around. Karen signed up to get art supplies and some new sport balls for Normalton High and Sinatra Middle school, which was were her kids Mary-Alice and Colton both went to school. She dropped money in the donation bucket for everything besides Normalton West’s stupid computer idea.

“Laptops for high schoolers what are they thinking?” She groaned as she passed the bucket to Shannon.

“They’re thinking they’re too good for a notebook and a pen that’s what”, Shannon passed the bucket to Cheryl.

“Knowing my kids they’d just play video games on it”, Cheryl handed it to Susan.

“It’d keep them from focusing on school. I bet they’d find a way to get on social media which is what we need less of at school. I have so many kids coming to my office because of cyber-bullying, it’s horrible”.

“Paisleigh got picked on so much on the Instagram she had to delete the app” Pam recalled, “and then Doug had to delete it because he threatened to kill everyone who was picking on her”.

“Pam, I have openings if you think he should come to ther-” Susan was quickly interrupted.

“He’s just an overprotective big brother. He really wouldn’t hurt a fly”. Pam assured, passing the bucket to the adjacent table. She didn’t notice her friends were rather disturbed.

"Everyone please put my casserole down for best side dish," Karen said after voting for herself.

“And my cake for the dessert” Shannon added.

“And Janet Deeter for best corn-bffff” Cheryl started laughing, “I couldn’t say it with a straight face!”

Later, Kelly made it back up on stage and announced that every sign-up slot for classroom donations had been filled. She started talking about the donation projects and how she would put up a Facebook link. It was all white noise in Karen’s ears. Even the stupid laptops didn’t matter anymore, it was about beating Helen.

“Now on to our little food competition”, Kelly announced. “Everyone always wants to eat dessert first so let’s announce it first! At number three we have my mango pie with the coconut crust. Awwww, I’m glad you guys liked it, today was my first time making it”!

“I hope it’s not the last” Enrique shouted from the audience!

“It won’t be, sweetie!”

Karen had to stop herself from yelling at Kelly to get on with it. She didn’t have time for Enrique and Kelly’s “world’s best couple” shenanigans. She just wanted to know if she beat Helen already. Wayne Reynold’s apple pie won second place, the announcement was met with applause and loud cheering from the other dads.

Shannon suddenly grabbed Karen’s hand, she was smiling in anticipation. She almost wanted to win as badly as Karen, _almost_. “And the top dessert by three votes is……Shannon Wolff’s chocolate cake!” Shannon’s victory cry was so loud it startled everyone at the adjacent tables. Karen and her friends were used to this and they contributed to the unnecessarily loud cheering.

“Congratulations to Shannon, and Wayne, and everyone who brought desserts today. Now we’re going to do best side dish.”

Karen stiffened up, ‘this is it’ she thought.

“At number three we have Faith Bergman’s potato salad”. There were some claps.

Cheryl leaned over to Karen and whispered, “Seriously, she put raisins in it”.

“Cheryl, you just don’t like raisins”.

“I like raisins just not in potato salad”.

Kelly continued, “Second place is for Mary Robinson’s mashed potatoes”. More cheers and a nod of approval from Cheryl. “And first place for best side dish is…” Kelly patted her knees for a pretend and cringe-worthy drumroll. After a thousand years, she finally announced the victor, "Monique Jones’ Macaroni and Cheese”! There was thunderous applause.

Karen’s face turned white. She miscalculated. Of course, Monique would win; the woman is a culinary goddess. Second or third could have been hers but no! Who on earth would vote for a potato salad over her casserole? It wasn’t even good potato salad it was far too salty and-

“Karen” Shannon began.

“They were too similar” Karen shook her head, her voice breaking. “They tasted the same; my onions being crunchier meant nothing! I-”

“Hey, Helen didn’t place either and she looks mad”.

“Oh, that’s nice”.

Susan smiled at her, “you worked hard Karen I’m proud of you”.

Cheryl gave Karen a pat on the back, “You’re gonna pull out all the stops next time. You’re gonna do even better and you’re going to make something you’ll super proud of that will earn you a win.”

“Yeah what Cheryl said” Pam cheered!

When the event was over, Karen made a B-line for her car and weaved around people just so she wouldn’t have to talk to Helen. Neither of them won but Karen knew her opponent would find some way to snatch a victory from her. Maybe claim she had 4th place? No, Helen was far too cunning for that. Karen set the empty casserole pan in the passenger seat before climbing into the driver’s seat. She sighed loudly as she turned the key. Her Mariah Carey CD started to play; it was almost drowned out by the loud fans of the air conditioner. She wanted to call Granny and tell her off for not giving her the recipe but she knew Granny would just tell her not to worry about little things like that and tell a story from the Depression.

After a moment of reflection, Karen started to feel like an idiot. Her grandmother grew up dirt poor, her father died in World War 2, her twin brother died in the Vietnam War. She raised three kids while working as a secretary to help Pop Pop afford medical school. Then she had to bury her only daughter and son-in-law and raise Karen and her younger sister, Cassidy. After all of that hardship, she was and still is, a kind and cheerful person. Granny never made food to win; she made it to bring friends, family, and even strangers together. Karen put her head in her hands and took a deep breath. She needed a Diet Coke! Moments before putting the car in reverse she checked her phone. There was one text from Mary-Alice.

It said, ‘Colton wants stuffed crust’.

Karen smiled and scrolled through her phone’s contacts before landing on Pepper’s Pizza. As she dialed the phone she realized that she inherited two things from Granny. The first was her love of cooking. The second was being a damn good parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers,
> 
> I hope you enjoyed chapter one of the Karen Chronicles and I hope you got plenty of laughs. I cracked myself up writing this. You may know me as thedisneysoldier on Tumblr. I did an RP of Karen and Helen in response to a meme of the kickasserole pan. Yeah, it's real! I have other stories in progress, maybe I'll upload them someday. I'm always trying to improve my writing so any constructive criticism is welcome. Have a great day and chapter 2 will arrive sometime next week (hopefully)! Bye!


	2. Eyes on the Target Throw Pillow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen and her kids are at Target getting school supplies when she and Helen get in a fight over a cute throw pillow.

**_ The Karen Chronicles Chapter Two: Eyes on the Target Throw Pillow _ **

Karen almost choked on a French fry when she realized nearby patrons at Bobby’s Burger Bar were fully engrossed in her seventeen-year-old daughter’s half-educational lecture half-rant about renaissance painter, Artemisia Gentileschi. Mary-Alice White had more passion for art in her pinky finger than most people had in their entire bodies and even strangers knew it. One of Karen’s great joys in life has been seeing her become more skilled as time has gone on, trying new techniques and even new mediums. Karen lacked and even yearned for the sense of unwavering passion that her daughter has exhibited all her life.

Mary-Alice looked quite a bit like her mother, brown eyes, a kind smile, and a heart-shaped face. She was a good three inches taller than her mother, thinner as well. Her nose was wider, her eyebrows were thicker, and she had bigger hands and feet. Her most prominent features were her hair and her wardrobe. Mary-Alice's hair was a light brown; it was short in the front and longer in the back, an inch or two from reaching her shoulders. Her side-parted bangs were dyed platinum blonde with more highlights of blonde and even a couple of yellow-orange streaks framing her face. This was the latest entry in her history of coloring her hair. It all started back in the seventh grade when her hairdresser dyed her hair red so she could be Ariel for Halloween. Her clothes were always colorful, often exhibiting bold patterns but she has long since figured out how to make her outfits quite fashionable. Today she was wearing a multicolored maxi dress and some pink sandals. Her fashion choice was chosen in part so she could cover up a large leg bruise from falling off a ladder two days ago. Ironically, she was painting Icarus on the ceiling at the time. The dress primarily consisted of various shades of blue in different patterns. The darker blue was in a brick type pattern while lighter blues and whites were horizontal and vertical stripes. There was a pink giraffe print pattern on the top left portion as well as a spot in the middle. She had on a black string necklace with three large turquoise pieces that looked like bits of gemstone or sea glass.

Karen and her ten-year-old son, Colton, were dressed more simply. Karen was wearing a white “I’d rather be watching House Hunters” t-shirt, denim shorts, and blue sandals. Meanwhile, he was in his green Little League soccer jersey, a pair of gym shorts, and obnoxious yellow flip flops. He’d hardly brushed his mop of brown hair. He had brown eyes, like his mother, but other than that he looked like his dad. A more energetic, less burned out younger version. He was physically incapable of being “burned out”; he was like a cartoon character. He had an undying love of sports; in fact, his first word was “goaaaaal”. His favorite, by far, was soccer. Both of them were pondering how a conversation of “what name would you pick out if we got another dog” led to an art history lesson.

After a half-second of silence, Mary-Alice pulled out her phone for a visual aid. "Both of these paintings are both of Judith slaying Holofernes. This is Caravaggio’s painting; this Judith looks like she’s never held a sword in her life! The physics here are completely wrong and in this art style, it's so obvious. See how her arms are just kind of there and she looks as confused as I feel looking at it! Now, THIS is Artemisia's painting. Look at that power grip and the determination in her face! Instead of dumbfounded shock, we have a dead-eyed expression is Holofernes' eyes which just shows her uncompromising realism”!

Karen winced at the painting; a very well executed renaissance painting of a decapitation was not what she wanted at the lunch table!

Colton, meanwhile, was entranced! “There’s so much more blood on it! It’s so cool!”

“Exactly”, Mary-Alice said, “Artemisia held nothing back. Her trauma is inseparable from her artwork. She took all of her pain and put it masterpieces, she’s an inspiration. Don’t even get me started on her brushwork!”

“Did she paint anymore like that one?”

“Yeah, let me show you”!

Karen took a long sip of Diet Coke as nearby patrons were clearly Googling the artwork as her daughter spoke so they could follow along. ‘This was supposed to be a quick lunch’ she thought. She still had to stop at the post office and then Target and her afternoon was going by fast. She felt a little ill looking at the pool of ketchup by her fries, this kind of thing happened whenever she was forced to watch horror movies but now paintings were included. Going to Target was the wholesome activity she needed to get her involuntary thoughts back on track. She waited patiently. Even if the subject wasn’t one she liked, she liked seeing her kids engrossed in something. Sure that one painting made her feel queasy but it was educational. Karen was able to reengage in the conversation once Mary-Alice got to discussing Artemisia’s use of lighting.

Twenty-eight minutes later, Karen and the kids finally walked into Target. They immediately headed to the cardboard display that had lists of needed school supplies for each Normalton public school. Karen also had to get the sport balls and art supplies she signed up for at the potluck. It was very crowded for a weekday afternoon, especially at the check-out lines. Normalton only had one Target, it was a big store but they really needed another one. They had two Walmarts, so why couldn’t they have two Targets? It was one of life’s great mysteries.

The school supplies aisles were jam-packed with other parents (mostly moms) and their kids. While Karen was trying to figure out how to get her cart in the aisle with all of the Crayola markers and paintbrushes, Colton simply weaved through the crowd. He even crawled through the storage space under some carts and closer to the end of his journey, the legs of numerous back to school shoppers. After thirty seconds or so he triumphantly emerged with his arms full of school supplies. Then he couldn’t get past a group of women who were chatting about reality television with the enthusiasm of friends reconnecting for the first time in twenty years. He couldn’t go around; there was another small army behind him that he just got through! He gently tapped one woman’s arm.

“You can go around” she snapped, “didn’t your mother tell you not to interrupt adults?”

"Excuse me," Karen said. They didn't even notice. "Excuse me," she said again. A few group members gave her the side-eye.

Suddenly item by item, markers, colored pencils, acrylic paint, paper, scissors, paintbrushes, flew over the hoard, and into Karen’s cart. She could barely see Colton throwing them; the items essentially appeared from nowhere! The obnoxious group ducked in a combination of gasps and screams. The markers almost didn’t make it; they hit the rim but fell in the basket just as Karen’s hand flew to grab them. Colton then shimmed through a gap to make it back to Karen’s side. The women turned and stared at her.

“I said excuse me” Karen shrugged.

The hoard shuffled off, mumbling to each other. They used their carts as battering rams to exit the other end of the aisle. Colton was beaming, proud of his acrobatics, and then Target cart basketball performance. Karen and Mary-Alice high-fived him before they continued their shopping attempt. They gave up on backpacks and went right to sports equipment, which was much less crowded. The balls were packaged up, much to Colton's dismay; he wanted to test them out. Most trips to Target were long adventures down every aisle but Karen wanted to escape this crowded suburban trap as soon as possible. She can look at curtains she wants but doesn’t need another day.

They were on their way to the check-out area when Karen spotted it from the adjacent home décor aisle. It was a tan square throw pillow with the phrase "Home is where your mom is" in stunning calligraphy that made it look hand-painted. Karen gasped, swerving the cart into the aisle. She paid no mind to her surroundings, she practically leapt to it. Her hand touched the center of the pillow at the same moment as another person. It was a well-manicured hand with nice French tip nails. Karen's nostrils flared when she saw the golden Rolex watch on this woman’s wrist. She looked up at Helen, their eyes met. Helen was wearing a green polo shirt, white capris jeans, white sandals, and, like always, the diamond necklace.

“Karen?”

“Helen?”

They were silent for a millisecond, neither one moved her hand. At the same moment, they both shouted "tHIS IS MY PILLOW”!

“I was here first, Karen. It’s mine!”

“You may have been in the aisle first but my hand touched the pillow first!”

“This is the only one left, I saw it first. This is my pillow.”

“Only one, huh, why don’t you check and see if they have another one in the back?”

“And risk losing it to you? I think not!”

They stared in silent hatred once more, waiting for the other to move. Mary-Alice rolled her eyes and reached into her white seashell purse and pulled out Colton's Nintendo Switch and handed it over, completely unprompted. She waved to Regina, Helen's older daughter from across the aisle. They were the same age but they went to different high schools.

Regina Sharp had her mother’s green skeptical eyes, the same focused brow, and the same lips that gave the impression of wheels always turning in her mind. Her nose had a point to it but it was wider than her mother's, her black-framed glasses were also bigger in size. Her cheekbones were not distinct like Helen's either. Her red hair was always pulled back in a high ponytail with two even strands flying free; they were softly curled and framed her face. She was tall and thin with a square-shaped body, like her mother. She was wearing a blue NASA t-shirt, black shorts, silver crescent moon earrings, and her beloved red converse. She was an academic decathlon champion, president of Normalton West's science club, and an aspiring astronaut. She shyly waved back to Mary-Alice. Her little sister, Rosalie looked up from her phone and threw up a peace sign. The future Broadway sensation was twelve years old. She wore a pink and white polka dot sundress with white sandals; her long jet black hair rested on her right shoulder. Like her mother and sister, she had green eyes and was exceptionally clever. The resemblance ended there. Her lips were bigger, her nose was more button-shaped, and she had surprisingly thick eyebrows for a middle schooler. She was bold, fearless, emotionally driven, confident, and very dramatic.

After their short silent interlude, Karen and Helen continued fighting. Karen went for the pillow with both hands and was quickly met with resistance from Helen. They screamed at each other as they entered a short tug-of-war over it.

“This is a gift for my sister” Karen shouted!

“Her birthday’s in April, a little early isn’t it?” Helen retorted, pulling it back.

“It’s never too early to buy birthday presents!”

“You have eight months; the pillow will be restocked within that time”.

“True but does this really go with your dungeon? Ooops I meant house”!

“If you must know I am remodeling. Should you really be throwing petty insults in front of your children? What kind of example is that”?

“My kids know how to stand up to bullies, like you! What are you teaching your daughters?”

“To follow their dreams and never back down, like you!”

“Don’t be silly, Helen. I NEVER QUIT”!

Karen elbowed Helen in the shoulder, took the pillow and ran for it! She was almost to the cart when Helen grabbed her wrist and spun her around. She had Karen in a lock before shoving her into other throw pillows. She snatched her prize and was about to throw it into her own cart when Karen tackled her to the ground.

“KAREN GET OFF ME OR WILL CALL MY ATTORNEY!”

“AND ADMIT YOU’RE LOSING? YOU’D NEVER!”

“I’M ONE STEP AHEAD OF YOU” Helen suddenly jabbed Karen in solar plexus, knocking the wind out of her! "I have a brown belt in karate"!

She got to her feet while her opponent was on the ground and picked up the pillow. Karen, unable to breathe, removed her sandal and threw it at Helen's head with all the force she could muster. Helen gasped angrily and went to pick up the shoe. Karen used her cart to help her get to her feet she grabbed it and shoved it at Helen with all her might! The pillow was on the ground once more. Karen dove for it, hitting the tile floor hard. She curled into a ball and held it tight. Helen shoved the cart away tackled Karen, wrestling for the pillow.

Their children meanwhile were standing in the middle of the candle aisle across the way, watching the fight a safe distance from embarrassment and stray punches. Rosalie was genuinely entertained and was munching on some overly salty, slightly stale, good ole’ fashion Target popcorn. Colton was watching too and silently debating if he had time to get popcorn without missing any action, Mario was paused for now.

Mary-Alice winced when she saw another one of Helen’s punches, “geez should we find a manager”?

“I think they’re hiding” Regina answered, her arms crossed tightly.

“That would explain why Target went from crowded as all hell to empty in like two seconds”.

Rosalie laughed, “They’re missing all the action!”

“GO FOR THE SHINS, MOM” Colton shouted!

Karen was on her back, her feet kicking wildly up at Helen, the pillow held tight in her arms. Her opponent dogged most of these kicks, only suffering a couple of blows. Helen finally got a hold of her ankle and with full force, she slammed Karen into the adjacent aisle! Pillows, blankets, fitted sheets fell from the shelves and landed on top of her.

“OOOOOHOOOHOOOHOOO”! Helen laughed, holding the throw pillow up in the air.

Karen grabbed one of the plastic-wrapped bedsheets and swung it into the back of Helen’s knee, knocking her down. Helen grabbed a blue ceramic candle holder and chucked it into Karen’s face! She threw her arms up, barely managing to shield herself. It bounced off her arms and landed on the floor, cracking. Neither combatant noticed! Helen was sprinting away, the cart moving at full speed. Karen ran after her, leaving her cart and her sandal behind. Helen weaved through different aisles, lifting her purse onto her shoulder so she could abandon the cart at any second. Karen took a short cut through the clothing department! The second she emerged from a pile of men’s shirts Helen’s cart came barreling towards her! She leapt out of the way, slamming into a rack of polo shirts. She sprinted once more; unaware she and Helen’s kids were not far behind. Helen was almost through the kitchen aisle when Karen leapt out and hit her in the chest with a frying pan! The pillow was on the floor.

“GIVE IT UP, KAREN”! She growled, grabbing her own frying pan.

“NEVER”! She charged her frying pan posed like a sword.

They dueled back and forth like master swordsmen in a fantasy world. The pans clanging loudly, the dissonance hurt their ears. Up, down, left, duck, repeat they fought. Their moment of being evenly matched was short-lived when Helen managed to knock Karen’s frying pan out of her hand. In a flash, Karen grabbed various kitchen items and started throwing them. Boxes with mixers and waffle makers were tossed in Helen’s path. She dodged them but this did slow her down. She was getting close enough to strike once more when Karen grabbed a pot and used it as a shield. It clanged loudly; the two of them froze in time for a moment. Helen pressed the frying pan harder against Karen’s makeshift shield. Her opponent held her ground. Helen smirked suddenly finding a weakness; she kicked Karen in the leg, knocking her down! Karen started crawling toward the throw pillow, Helen dragged her back. As she was being pulled, Karen snatched a frying pan off the ground and tried to hit her on the wrist. She aimed for the watch but Helen pulled away at the last second! Karen got to her feet and slowly backed up, the pillow was right behind her. Helen charged, unarmed. She ducked and dodged every swing as she walked closer, trying to anger Karen into taking the offensive and thus inching farther from the pillow.

Rosalie took her last sip of blue raspberry slushy, “Uggghhh, so I’m bored”! She groaned.

“It’ll be over soon, Rose”. Regina assured as she returned a fallen Panini press to its place on the shelf.

“I’m about to beat Bowser so maybe like two more minutes”? Colton pleaded.

“You know you can pause it, right”? Mary-Alice answered between bites of kettle corn.

“Yeah but I’m about to w- ah he did the fucking tail swipe” he shouted! The game over music quietly and somberly played.

“You want me to try?”

“No”!

Rosalie yawned, “Alright I’m out of here”. She waved as she walked off, her back was turned, “byeeee”

“Where are you going? You can’t drive!” Regina walked back over to her mother’s cart. She started to follow her sister. She turned into the cleaning supplies aisle. Seconds after Rosalie was out of sight, the fire alarm went off. “Dammit, Rose”, Regina grumbled!

Helen was right in front of Karen; she narrowly dodged the last strike from the frying pan. Karen threw it and ran back for the pillow! Helen caught it before throwing it right into the small of her enemy’s back. Karen landed inches from the pillow; she crawled to it and grabbed it with seconds to spare! She hugged it tightly as she struggled to get on her feet. Helen was waiting. Suddenly they both heard the fire alarm blaring. They stopped.

“Should we take this to the parking lot”? Karen asked.

Helen jabbed her in the windpipe and snatched the pillow, “No” she answered. She spotted her daughters heading to the exit and rushed out of Target after them.

Karen gasped for breath as Helen left with her prize. 'Why can't I beat her? Just once, I want to win' she thought.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Mary-Alice asked as she helped her to her feet.

“I’m fine, just hurt my pride”, she said, putting her sandal back on.

“And your face” Colton observed! Mary-Alice punched him on the arm.

“Colton, that was very rude!” Karen said.

“Sorry, Mom”

“We went through the self-checkout and paid for everything, so we can just go”. Mary-Alice said, changing the subject.

“Okay…”

They walked out of Target; the heat was jarring after being in the air conditioning for so long. Karen showed her receipt to a very nervous looking employee before heading to the car. She spotted Helen’s black Lexus backing out of its space several rows over. Knowing Helen, she likely intimidated some poor manager into taking her money in cash on the spot. If her kids saw Colton and Mary-Alice go ahead and buy everything then they probably did too. Both she and Helen left their purses with them.

“Maybe you can find a cuter pillow on Etsy” Mary-Alice suggested.

“Maybe” Karen shrugged, unlocking the car. She started it up and let the air conditioning get going while the kids put everything in the back. Karen sighed heavily, she felt sore, defeated, and embarrassed.

She hated fighting in front of her kids but in the moment she would always lose sight of that. Helen did have a point, what kind of example was she setting? Getting into fights, always getting beaten down, having little motivation or passion for anything anymore, what kind of role model is that? She was such a dreamer when she was younger, always excited about life. Now the highlight of her existence was HGTV, cooking good food, the off chance of defeating Helen, and watching her kids be better than her. 'If they're better than me then I must be doing something, right' she thought.

She glanced out the back window. Colton was sitting in the empty cart basket as Mary-Alice sprinted, giving him a ride to the cart return station. They were laughing so loud she could hear them from inside the car. She smiled when she watched him climb out and they raced back to the car, Colton won. They climbed in the back seat, giggling as they ate more kettle corn. ‘Yeah,’ Karen thought, ‘I’m doing something right’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers,
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter of the Karen Chronicles! I'll have chapter 3 ready next week, grab some burgers and prepare for small talk because the neighborhood BBQ is coming!


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